Saturday, September 29, 2012

Purely Personal, Vol. 1, No. 1, Monday, January 24, 1944

Bill Bridges sports a new set of choppers (teeth). How he came to lose the regulars, I don't know, but he sure grins like a chipmunk.

Benton and Norb have a new herring who goes for a loss of anything from 50 smacks a week or more.

Listen gang, don't come back to the Blue Room looking for the "Pink Tuna" Norb Pharo. He is no more. One of the most improved herring who can now be classed as a shark is Norb. That is strictly on the level. Maybe it took him this long to learn the Blue Room method, but he sure is making up for lost time. So let dreary and "Host Man" Young and a few others take warning.

Now if you want the least improved herring, it's still me, Neighbor. I'm still classed as the faithful fish. The fellow who raises a one card draw with a pair of Jacks. And when it comes to horses, why I'm just about as useful as a glass doorknob on a country outhouse.

Would you believe it? The place is so bare that even Miles Egan plays "crazy eights."  Trump that!

Homer Marksberry, the Parish Bull, is still the action man.  Never a dull moment when he hits the front door. "Uncle Bulgey," better known to you as John Fennesey, has the best racket of them all. He goes out to some Food Shop and buys about 30 cents worth of Shad Roe* and brings it in and feeds it to Benton.Then he takes the "Dog" for a loss on the marble machine to the tune of $$$$$$$. Nice work if you can get it, and Fennesey sure does.

A nice quiet evening in the place consists of a heart game by Reichelt, Schmitt, Burlap, Norb and maybe Fennesey. All five of them will be ducking and trying to "get under the rock," then someone slips somebody the Queen of Spades. Then when the building trembles, it sounds like a combined picnic of Boilers, bakers and Teamsters, only a little louder and more profane.

We still have those card games where everybody loses and Murphy grabs the broom to sweep the profits off the floor with nary a penny does he find. I guess as long as the world holds our kind of people, there will always be a "Blue Room."

Joe Rechtin still drops in licking his chops and wishing Wayne Hogan was around. "Yeah, yum," says Joe, "I sure wish this war was over."

Did you ever hear the story about the fellow who was going to give his girl a wrist watch for Christmas? Well, he dropped and broke the case, so he just gave her the works.

* Definition Credit:

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